Jean wracked her brain trying to think of a way to remove the electrical micro-generator attached to Logan's skeleton. Lorna Dane? She could control metals, but she was barely a teenager, and she wasn't anywhere close to having the delicate control necessary for such a procedure. She'd probably pull Logan's spine out as well as the small device.

Could she telekinetically remove it? No, she'd probably have the same luck as Lorna. She couldn't even destroy the inner workings telekinetically because she couldn't remove the outer adamantium covering, and she could only mentally control objects if she could see them.

So, no destroying it from the inside out and no pulling it off. What about cutting it off? No, if the laser hadn't been able to cut through the adamantium, nothing could. Even Logan's own claws... wait! A memory flashed through her mind.

On the Statue of Liberty, when they'd all been trapped, she'd heard Logan yell and then the distinctive sound of metal on metal. He'd released his claws into his chest to get free and rescue Rogue. There's no way he could've avoiding hitting at least one rib, but he'd had six entry wounds and six exit wounds when she'd treated him later on. The claws must've cut through his adamantium-lined ribs. That's it! She had a possible solution. Now all she had to do was figure out how to pop Logan's claws.

Pulling his right arm around from his side, she manipulated the muscles in his forearm until she heard a distinctive *SNIKT*.

"Jean?!" Scott called from Rogue's bedside, his voice filled with concern.

She'd almost forgotten he was there. "It's ok, Scott. He's unconscious... How's Rogue doing?"

"I... I don't know. Her heart monitor's beeping and none of the alarms have gone off, so I guess ok so far."

"That's good," Jean said, trying to be reassuring. "Keep bagging her. As soon as Logan's stabilized, I'll go back to treating her."

Scott nodded and turned his attention back to the still girl before him. He wasn't a doctor, but he was doing the best he could.

'Damn it, Charles," she cursed silently. 'How many times have I told you we needed another doctor! Even a nurse would make this fiasco easier. How am I supposed to treat two critical patients at the same time by myself?'

She shook off that line of thought and turned her attention back to Logan's right arm, clamped in her hands with three, nine-inch, deadly claws shining in the medical lights. She knew he had finer, individual control over them, but after her clumsy attempts, she was glad she could get any of them out at all.

She bent Logan's arm awkwardly behind his back, bringing the claws around to his exposed spine. She kept one hand clenched around the muscles of his arm while the other gripped his hand to have more control of the blades.

'Take your time,' she warned herself. If she wasn't careful, she could very easily cut through his spine as well as the device, killing him instantly.

Ororo was holding on to the generator itself now that the skin and muscle had been removed. She was drawing the charge directly out of the top making the fused part safe to cut. However, her fingers were dangerously close to where the blade would strike.

"'Ro, I'm cutting now. Stay very still," Jean warned.

"Hurry," Ororo gasped, barely audible.

It all happened within seconds. Jean sliced through the tiny power generator, and Ororo staggered backward, setting the device in the plastic bowl that had been waiting for it before collapsing to the floor.

The silence that followed was nearly as deafening as the thunder that had preceded it. Now that Ororo was no longer drawing off energy, it wasn't necessary to keep releasing it into the storm above the mansion. The lightening and thunder that had awoken every resident and shaken the mansion to its foundation quickly dissipated, leaving quiet in its wake.

Jean scampered to her friend's side as Scott looked on helplessly, unable to leave Rogue unattended.

"'Ro?" he asked in a whisper, as if afraid of the answer Jean would provide.

After a quick examination, Jean declared her exhausted, but otherwise ok. She quickly moved Ororo to another medical bed to rest before she returned to Logan's side to finally assess the full extent of his injuries.

The surgical incision on his spine needed to be sewn together, but the lower levels of muscle were drier than living flesh should be and wouldn't pull back together to be stitched. The flesh was burned and almost cooked in parts. She had to be satisfied with stitching together the healthier outer muscle and skin.

She felt the hope that had filled her on the reestablishment of a pulse fleeing. If this was the type of damage throughout Logan's body, there was no way he would recover. Doctors treated burns by removing the dead skin and replacing it with grafts from other parts of the body. Logan's injuries were internal, not external. If muscle tissue and tendons had died, there was no way she could remove them. Unless his healing factor was capable of disposing of and replacing the dead flesh, he would get gangrene and die. He would die even sooner from poor circulation if too many of his major arteries and veins had been burned away.

Even if he did manage to survive, his skull was lined with metal. Had his brain been permanently damaged by the extended exposure to high voltage? She wouldn't know until he woke up... if he woke up.

Turning him around on his back, she discovered further evidence of massive internal injuries. The oxygen mask she'd quickly pulled around his head was streaked on the inside with blood. She'd thought his breathing sounded wet, and here was further evidence. His lungs must have been damaged along with his heart.

The bleeding wasn't limited to his mouth and nose. His ears and eyes were bleeding as well. She pulled the eyelids open for a second to see the hazel irises floating in a sea of red instead of the natural white. Not only were they totally bloodshot, but also the tear ducts were weeping blood. His ears had been dripping slow trails of red down his cheeks while he'd lain on his stomach. Now on his back, the trails disappeared into his hair.

She barely knew Logan, but had felt compelled to save him. He'd been at the mansion less a week before he'd left again, searching for his past. The professor suspected that he had found it, and been turned into a killing machine as a result. But from what she'd read in his mind those two years ago, she knew him to be a noble and caring man underneath. Rogue had missed him terribly, and she didn't trust people easily. Jean hoped for Rogue's sake as much as his, that he would recover, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

She quickly established a central line, open feed, to try and replenish the blood, fluids, and electrolytes his body had lost during the trauma. She then gently intubated him and hooked him up to a respirator, giving his injured lungs a chance to rest somewhat. She couldn't do anything more for him, so she turned her attention back to Rogue.

"Scott, stop bagging for a second," she commanded, listening for breath sounds with the stethoscope... There! "She's trying to breath on her own," Jean said, a genuine smile lighting her face for the first time since this all had started.

"Is that a good thing?" Scott asked, unsure.

"It's a very good thing; she's trying to come back. Her breaths are too shallow, so I'm still going to hook her to a respirator, but I'll adjust it to react when she initiates a breath instead of forcing a steady rhythm. If she improves and is able to keep her blood oxygen level up, I should be able to extubate her in a few days."

Every inch of her body ached, like she'd gone ten rounds with the heavy weight champion of the world. There was something in her mouth, and she tried to lift her arm to inspect it, but the limb felt like it was filled with lead and she couldn't move it. She tried opening her eyes instead, but the lids were just as heavy as her arm. What had happened to her? Why did she feel this way? Where was she? The curiosity overpowered her exhaustion, and after what seemed like minutes of trying, she forced her eyes halfway open.

Metal. She was lying in a room covered ceiling, walls, and she guessed floor, in metal. A blurry figure moved into her line of vision.

"Rogue? You're awake!" the feminine voice said in barely contained excitement. "I was just about to extubate you, but this will make it easier. I'm going to count to three. When I say two, I want you to take a deep breath. On three, I want you to blow it out like you'd blow out birthday candles. Ok?"

'Birthday candles?' she wondered. 'Yeah, sure, ok,' she thought, nodding at the woman above her.

"One... two... three!"

She blew out and felt the plastic tube being yanked through her throat and out her mouth. She couldn't resist the coughing fit that seized her, as she tried to catch her breath. She was grateful when a mask was placed over her mouth and nose, blowing cool oxygen down her sore throat.

Finally, when she had caught her breath, she asked the question that had been puzzling her since she'd awoken, "Who are you?"